


i could slip into you

by dayevsphil



Series: lover dearest (amnesia au) [6]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Amnesia, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Introspection, M/M, Memory Loss, Porn with Feelings, Smut, japhan 2.0 with a twist!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23613421
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dayevsphil/pseuds/dayevsphil
Summary: The ghost of who Phil used to be doesn't seem so present in the bustling streets of a city that doesn't belong to them or in the expensive hotel sheets that they struggle to leave every morning.
Relationships: Dan Howell/Phil Lester
Series: lover dearest (amnesia au) [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1449553
Comments: 39
Kudos: 218





	i could slip into you

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lackless](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lackless/gifts).



> for nathalie ♥ thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write this!
> 
> note for those trawling the explicit tag (i see you and i understand you): this is part of a series and cannot be read as a standalone without major confusion!
> 
> read and reblog on tumblr [here!](https://dayevsphil.tumblr.com/post/615205826599305216/i-could-slip-into-you)

Dan has been to Japan before. It was probably one of the most memorable experiences of his life. Becoming mesmerized by cherry blossoms and mountains, laughing at Phil's grip on chopsticks, standing on a balcony and looking out at the city lights.

He feels like he can see all of them, now. The whole city. That's stupid, and definitely not true, but the sight of safety lights through the fog make Dan feel like he is on top of the fucking world. It helps to feel Phil's arms wrap around his waist and squeeze, adds to the weird sensation of power and contentment and embarrassment coursing through Dan.

Power, because that is what standing in front of a wall of windows on a skyscraper makes him feel. That is what Phil's arms make him feel.

Contentment, because Dan could stay in this exact spot forever if he didn't have basic human needs and a mind that rarely slows down. He wants to keep leaning back into Phil and look out at the twinkling safety lights together.

Embarrassment, because Dan is naked.

Dan is often naked, or most of the way to it, able to shuck clothes off in front of Phil now without the gnawing worry that he ought not to let anyone see him except for Phil. As in the Phil he'd been six months ago, the only person Dan has ever trusted unconditionally, the only one allowed to see Dan's bits at this point in his life.

They're getting better at not treating that Phil like a ghost who haunts them. At least, Dan thinks they are. 

There are still things to work on. If they'd been in this position six months ago, in front of floor-to-ceiling glass and a city that they remember almost reverently, Phil would press his lips to Dan's neck and his hand to Dan's dick and tease him for his thing about getting off where people will never see, but it still feels like maybe they could. Dan has always been surprised at how effective Phil is at making him alone squirm about thrills they share.

But they don't do that anymore. Yet. Anymore, yet. They don't do that right now.

Phil kisses Dan's cheek and keeps his fingers stroking over perfectly regular parts of Dan's exposed skin. "We should order room service," Phil murmurs. 

Dan knows he's the one who's being weird. He's the reason that Phil studiously avoids looking directly at his dick, let alone reaching for it. An elusive curl of disappointment twists in his stomach despite knowing that.

"In a minute," says Dan, matching Phil's volume. They're both speaking so softly, as if anyone could possibly be around to hear, and Phil's thumb brushes over Dan's ribcage.

"Enjoying the view?" Phil teases, and Dan's brain zooms in enough to realise that he can see the vague reflection of them in the glass. The lamplight makes it hazier, soft like their voices, and Dan bites his lip. Phil is so incredibly and unbelievably good, though. He doesn't push. He never pushes.

By the time Phil migrates to the phone, Dan is a little hard, staring at himself among the Tokyo skyline and wondering if maybe he needs Phil to start pushing.

\--

It's helpful, being somewhere that they haven't spent thousands of hours together. The ghost of who Phil used to be doesn't seem so present in the bustling streets of a city that doesn't belong to them or in the expensive hotel sheets that they struggle to leave every morning.

Besides, it's been almost six months since Dan has seen that version of Phil. Valentine's Day is coming up with the sort of speed that Dan has never considered possible before, since they haven't made a big deal of it in previous years. But Phil is more of a romantic, now, and the day is going to fall somewhere in the middle of their trip _on purpose_ , so.

"We don't have to do anything," Phil had reassured him, lips twitching at whatever horror had broadcast across Dan's face at the realization. "I just thought it would be nice."

Dan has gotten over the initial shock at Phil even acknowledging Valentine's Day, and now he's just worried that Phil is going to get him a gift anyway and he won't be prepared. He can't exactly go shopping for Phil when Phil is beside him, grabbing at his hand every time he sees something exciting. At this point, he's resigned to taking Phil out for dinner if he has any shoddily-wrapped presents for Dan in his suitcase.

He can't even act like that's going to be a hardship. He feels all fuzzy and warm at the idea of it, although he'd never admit that to Phil. He's sure that Phil sees through the reluctance and whinging anytime they do something sappy as it is, and Dan isn't about to add any more fuel to that fire.

It's helpful, too, having Phil act in ways he never used to. The shadow of who Dan fell in love with isn't so looming when Phil isn't pretending to gag at anything sincere or carefully putting distance between them where other people might see.

The ghost, the shadow... Dan doesn't see it. Not here, not now. He wonders how long that's going to last.

\--

"Do you want a ring?" Phil asks, so casually he might as well be asking about the weather. Dan chokes on his frappucino and glares. Phil only shrugs, unapologetic. "We can pick one out if you want one."

"Do _you_ want a ring?" Dan shoots back.

Phil rolls his eyes, knocks his foot against Dan's under their small table, and Dan almost can't believe how much of Phil has been kept from Before. Dan doesn't believe in things like fate. Sometimes, though, he's struck by how inevitable this can feel. Like they'd fall for each other whatever age they met at, like they'd end up in Japan together no matter what, like every Phil would get exasperated with every Dan in a Starbucks somewhere.

"I'm the one who asked you. Twice. So you're the one who gets the ring."

"Seems patriarchal," says Dan.

"I could get you something else instead," says Phil. He seems to have figured out that the best way to stop one of Dan's rants in its tracks is to simply ignore it, and Dan might be annoyed by that if he were capable of being annoyed right now. "Like how penguins give each other pebbles."

"I don't think I want a pebble, Phil."

That gets a grin out of Phil, and Dan can't stop himself from smiling right back at him.

He's happy, is the thing. The city is beautiful and the Starbucks is good and Phil keeps talking about getting married like he really means it this time. Maybe he'd really meant it the last time he asked, too - Dan hadn't exactly been ready for that, hadn't been able to picture what a wedding or a marriage would even look like when he still felt so _young_ , so he hadn't put much stock in the concept.

There's nothing holding him back anymore. Now his mum and the world know about him, even if they haven't been explicitly told what Phil means to him, and it seems fantastical that Dan is in a place in his life where he _can_ wear a ring if he wants to.

Phil changing hadn't been part of the plan, but it doesn't scare Dan as much as it did when it first happened. He knows this Phil now.

It doesn't feel anything like betrayal, which Dan is glad for. He's talked through that sort of kneejerk emotional response with Robin so many times that she can probably recite the tired song by heart, but Dan isn't feeling that tautness in his chest when he thinks about spending the rest of his life with a somewhat different Phil than he'd intended to. He knows it isn't rational. He knows that this is still his Phil in front of him, just with longer hair and less confidence. Obviously there's more to it than that, and he's never going to be able to condense the complicated situation into an easy-to-swallow tablet, but Dan is getting better with it.

Phil leans over and gently tugs at Dan's left earlobe. They'd both been too jetlagged to bother with their appearances before they left the hotel this morning. Phil is wearing his glasses, which is a rarer sight now than it's ever been, and Dan doesn't have any of his earrings in. They're only seeing each other, really, despite the busy streets they've been exploring.

It doesn't seem to matter as much to look polished when it's just the two of them. Neither of them have greasy hair or stained clothes, and that's really all that matters in the end. Phil has seen Dan at his most disgusting - and vice versa - and he wants to marry Dan anyway.

"I could get you an earring instead," Phil says, right on that edge of teasing where Dan knows he could fall either way. "Or two. Whatever."

"Engagement earrings?" Dan asks. He pulls Phil's fingers away from their soft exploration of his ear, because they're still in public, and he holds Phil's hand on the table. Because that's something he can do now.

"Maybe. Or we could do a coordinated dance like seahorses do before -"

"Okay, okay, I get it," Dan laughs, squeezing Phil's hand. "I think human jewelry will suffice, you big turnip. But you really don't have to get me anything."

"I know I don't have to," says Phil. He raises their joined hands to his lips, just for a moment. "I want to."

Dan thinks about the reality of it. Something shiny to represent their plans for some indeterminable point in the near future, something he could show Kath that she might cry about, something that he'd be terrified of losing for months on end but might be worth it to see Phil's eyes go all soft at the sight.

He smiles. "I'll think about it."

\--

The sheets are as soft as any Dan has slept on, but it doesn't make it any easier for him to sleep. He's always had trouble with it, always had a tendency to let his thoughts chase each other around until he'd worked himself up into a proper tizzy and the light of dawn had started to spill through his window. Phil is snoring lightly, one arm slung over Dan's waist, and Dan has been toying absently with Phil's fingers for what feels like hours.

He knows what their plan used to be. The house, the dog, the wedding, the kids, the retiring to the Isle in thirty years. He doesn't know if that's still what Phil wants, and - more to the point - he doesn't know if that's what he still wants, either.

A home base is something that Dan thinks is non-negotiable, but this trip has opened his eyes to something he hadn't considered before: _this_ Phil hasn't been around the world with him twice. _This_ Phil hasn't seen the beaches in Australia or the Grand Canyon or the view from Singapore skyscrapers. _This_ Phil is, honestly, missing out.

It's not like he has plans to abandon their life in London to whisk Phil on a months-long holiday or anything like that. Dan doesn't have that kind of energy, first of all, and Phil wouldn't be able to stop working for that long even if he was physically tied down. Still, Dan thinks that weekend trips around Europe and longer journeys for things that _aren't_ work are something he wants to do more now than he'd have wanted to last year. It feels ridiculous to even think the words, but he wants to show Phil all the cool places that he can't remember being.

A dog is still on the list, too - not nearly as certain as the existence of a place that they properly own, but definitely up there. Dan has been toying with the idea of a dog that can be trained to help Phil in case something happens again rather than picking up the sweetest mongrel at the pound, and he hasn't had the nerve to bring that up to Phil yet. He's worried that Phil will take it as an insult, somehow.

The wedding isn't going to be necessary. Dan is on decent terms with his own family at this point, but Phil still gets stressed around groups of people who know him. Dan thinks that cramming everyone into one room and making Phil deal with friends and family and not tripping over his own feet is all too much to ask, and Dan doesn't feel much disappointment when he thinks about the loss of it. Sure, he likes attention and he likes how romantic and silly Phil has been lately, but his priority is making sure that Phil is comfortable. They can do something small, maybe, just their immediate family and any friends that they couldn't imagine the day without.

Anyway, they can always throw anniversary parties any other year. Dan doesn't need to reserve his flashiness and performance for just the one day. 

Kids, well. That's a different story.

Phil hadn't wanted kids the same way that Dan had. He'd come around to being excited after a while, but they never really talked about it in much detail beyond 'someday', and Dan knows that Phil probably wouldn't want kids independently of their relationship.

So, that's a conversation they could have, and it could go really well or really badly or somewhere in between, but Dan has been so busy seeing the changes in Phil that he's been ignoring the changes to his own life.

Does he still want kids, really? Another life or two to worry about all the fucking time? Not to mention the fact that Phil's traumatic brain injury isn't going anywhere, and the list of side effects that they keep on the fridge and in Dan's notes app is going to be something that they refer to for years. Maybe the rest of their lives. And Dan is fine with that - for himself.

He can handle the mood swings and the confusion and the impulsiveness and everything else that comes with the package that is Phil now, but he isn't so sure about what it would mean to introduce small humans to that. Kids can't regulate their own emotions, let alone deal with an adult who can't, and Dan doesn't think it would be fair to them or to Phil or to _Dan_ to try and convince Phil he wants kids all over again just to live in constant stress.

It's a harder dream to let go of than Dan expected it to be, but his priorities have shifted irretrievably.

Phil makes a soft sound in his sleep and buries his nose into Dan's chest. Dan runs his fingers through Phil's long hair and lets the rhythm of Phil's breathing settle him back into the present.

A kiss is pressed to Dan's skin, totally subconscious, and Dan smiles. At least they've still got each other and the rest of their lives and all that. That's the thing that's been keeping him going these past six months.

Dan keeps trying to sleep, a cottage on the Manx coast in his mind's eye. That plan, at least, hasn't changed.

\--

The streets are bustling in the middle of the day, both like and unlike every other city in the world. Dan keeps close to Phil's side but doesn't reach for him. It's one thing to pull each other to a stop or to hold hands in Starbucks, but it's another entirely to take Phil's hand while they're walking - they're just too tall, really, it's like they're a blockade in the street if they aren't winding through strangers with the rest of the crowds.

That, and maybe they're both still hesitant about affection in public. The world is a less scary place for Dan than it is for Phil in some ways, but Dan has been assaulted for less. Things like that don't just go away.

Phil does a lot of pointing and grinning at certain shops, but he never tries to drag Dan into any of them. Dan has promised to take him to Akihabara, and he seems to be holding the majority of his eagerness back until they get there. The street is starting to look like what Google Street View had assisted Dan with finding, but Phil grabs at his arm before he can say anything.

"Look, shiny," Phil grins, pulling Dan to a shop window. There are a lot of different colours happening, but Dan sees a poster with a young girl showing off her pierced ears.

"If you're buying my ring here, I want a divorce," Dan says dryly. "This stuff will turn your extremities green."

He struggles to keep a straight face when Phil giggles, so genuine and sweet that Dan wants nothing more than to laugh with him.

"Extremities," Phil repeats gleefully. "You think they'd pierce my ears? Or my nose? Or my -"

"I’m not letting you get your face or anything else pierced at whatever the Japanese version of Claire's is," says Dan, tugging Phil away from the window. "Sometimes you really do act twenty."

When Phil smiles at him, his tongue is trapped between his teeth and his eyes are crinkled with the force of it. Dan thinks that it isn't fair how strongly his heart still reacts to that. He should really be desensitized at this point.

"Will you let me pierce my extremities when we get home?" Phil teases, allowing Dan to lead him further down the street and into the district proper.

"Pierce whatever you want, mate, but you're the one explaining it to mum," says Dan. A laugh startles past his lips at the suddenly sour expression on Phil's face, like Dan has ruined all his fun.

\--

Phil is a lot less frugal than he usually is, but Dan remembers that from their first visit to Tokyo, too. He might not know every single property that he used to, but he still stocks them up on more Ghibli and Pokémon merchandise than they probably need as proper adults. Dan doesn't have the heart to tell him no on anything, even stuff he knows they'll never use, because Phil is having so much fun. He holds things up for Dan's inspection, beaming bright, and Dan just keeps smiling back helplessly.

They aren't burdened down with too many bags or anything - an excited Phil is still a lot more reasonable than some other people Dan has met - but Dan cuts their shopping trip short once they've both got their hands full.

"We can come back another day," Dan reminds his fiancé, nudging him lightly with an elbow.

"Sure," Phil agrees easily enough. He gives Dan such a bright smile that Dan almost trips over a crack in the pavement at the sight of it. "Don't you have an appointment tomorrow for something?"

"You already forgot what it's for?"

Dan keeps his tone mild, not wanting to freak Phil out or get his defenses up. Phil's smile still fades. His brow furrows for a moment.

"Yeah," says Phil, quiet. "Yeah, I know you told me..."

"That's okay," says Dan. He means it, too, but he knows that there's never going to be a good way to bring attention to any side effects that Phil is experiencing. He wants to wrap his arms around Phil and tell him it'll all be okay, but his hands are full of bags and they're still in the middle of Akihabara. "I'm getting my hair cut and my nails done."

"Oh, right."

Phil's shoulders are slumped a bit more than they usually are and his eyes don't have the same sparkle that they've had all day. Dan curses himself for pointing out the lapse.

"You should come with me," he says. "I know you said you'd rather have a lie-in, but I think it would be nice for you to have someone take care of you for a bit."

Phil's lips twitch. "I have you, don't I?"

"You always have me," says Dan. He's not as reserved about saying things like that in a public setting where they're unlikely to be recognised or even totally understood. "But I'm not about to try and mess with that lion mane, mate."

"I'll come with you," Phil decides, his hand making an aborted motion as if he wants to tuck some of his hair behind his ear. He can't, of course, not with plastic bags full of knick-knacks and board games obstructing him. He gives Dan a more muted smile than the others Dan has been on the receiving end of today. "I don't know if I'll get it as short as it used to be, though. I kind of like having it longer."

"You can do whatever you want," Dan says, looking ahead so he doesn't have to see whatever Phil's expression does when he adds, "It's your hair, not anyone else's."

\--

Phil does end up getting his hair cut shorter than Dan expected him to. He explains that it's so he doesn't have to get it done as often, but he seems a little lost without the black curtains to hide behind. He gets his nails done when Dan does, but he goes with a _hideous_ bright green instead of taking Dan's cue with some neutral glitter.

"I can't believe you're just going to have that on your hands for weeks," Dan sighs.

Suddenly, Phil looks a lot less mischievous. "Sorry, _weeks_?"

\--

Every time Dan gets his hair touched up, Phil spends a good portion of his before-sleep time in bed just running his fingers over the freshly shaved sides and tugging at Dan's ears.

He's lingering more than usual tonight, his gentle touch sending shivers down Dan's spine that he doesn't know what to do with, and Dan looks away from his phone to see if Phil is trying to get his attention or if he's just zoned out.

"Hi," he says across the small space between their pillows.

Phil jolts like he's surprised and then relaxes, smiling faintly at Dan. He has to squint a bit, and Dan's heart still goes nuts at that. He remembers being eighteen and waking up to Phil squinting happily at him, remembers Phil hadn't gone for his glasses because he'd wanted to just keep looking at Dan, remembers the way Phil's fingers had trailed down his chest and - 

Dan shakes his head to try and clear it.

"What are you thinking about?" he asks before Phil can try and ask him the same thing.

"Still thinking about getting you some earrings," Phil hums, rubbing Dan's earlobe between his finger and thumb. "Or do you like just wearing one?"

"What if I want a proper ring?"

"Then I'll get you matching earrings," Phil teases. He wiggles closer and presses a kiss to the corner of Dan's mouth, making the sort of happy humming noise that Dan associates with complete contentment. "You don't wear them enough."

"You just like having more things to fiddle with," Dan laughs. He pulls his arm out from between them so he can wrap it around Phil, pressing his palm to the small of Phil's back and tugging him even closer. Phil giggles against his cheek and then kisses Dan properly, both of them smiling too much for it to feel anything but silly. "Mm. I love you."

"I love you," Phil says happily, hitching his leg over Dan and getting comfortable on his chest.

"Excuse me, I'm not your pillow."

With another soft giggle, Phil clings to him dramatically. "Yes, you are. My favourite pillow, that's why I took you with me."

"Stupid," Dan says, fond. He runs his fingers through Phil's shorter hair and sets his phone aside. He's probably not going to be able to fall asleep for a while longer, but he can hold Phil close until Phil's breaths have evened out and he rolls away from Dan on his own. They spend most nights like this, wrapped up in each other, and Dan hasn't gotten tired of it yet. He's pretty sure he never will.

\--

The city is beautiful and fun and everything, but Dan feels some sense of relief as the train takes them further away from it. He's eager to see all the places that are on Phil's loose itinerary - he wants to take photos of Phil in front of pretty bamboo and sneak kisses in the low light of less populated areas.

"I kind of also want to see you get chased by deer," Dan adds, popping a kinoko no yama in his mouth. The mushroom-shaped biscuits are so good that he'd insisted Phil get his own box of them so he didn't have to share with his Augustus Gloop of a fiancé. It isn't often that Dan wants sweets to himself, so Phil hadn't argued. He looks like he's regretting it now that he's out of snacks and Dan still has some.

"Deer wouldn't chase me," says Phil. He's got his long legs stretched out to one side of Dan's, pressed against the wall of the train, and Dan once again thinks about how shit it can be to travel when you're a giant. "They're going to love me. I'm going to take one home as a pet."

"That's violating our lease," Dan says absently.

"Not if Ellie has some good places for us to look at when we get back."

"Touché. You wanna put money on deer leaving you alone?"

Phil deflates a little bit, looking very much like he's trying to hold back laughter. "Okay, no, I'm just saying that it's a possibility."

"They'll like me better," says Dan. He turns to look out the window and pretends he doesn't notice Phil sneaking a photo or video or whatever. He's never minded being featured on Phil's camera roll, and more recently it's been something he's trying not to take for granted ever again. Those long weeks where Phil was still unsure of their relationship and his own feelings are still very fresh in Dan's mind. He thinks that he'd probably only complain if Phil took photos of him asleep, but... even if they got posted and Dan got to be a drooling mess of a meme for a while, he's pretty sure that he'd still be happy about Phil wanting to savour the moment.

Maybe it's not so much savouring anymore. Maybe Phil is building memories now, ones that he doesn't have to share with anyone else or agonize about getting wrong. And Dan is happy with that, too.

\--

The sheets in this hotel aren't as expensive and smooth, but they're just as comfortable. Dan is frankly glad that Phil didn't splurge on _all_ of their accommodations. The idea of trying to explain budgeting to someone who is still getting used to having so much money doesn't sound like something he's equipped for.

Dan stretches out on the bed, getting acquainted with the dips of this new mattress. They're going to be here for several nights, so he wants to make sure that his side of the bed is good.

He considers taking a nap despite the late afternoon sun still spilling through the open blinds, because the combination of warmth and comfort is probably enough to let him drift off. The ambient sound of Phil's shower is a nice addition, and Dan feels his eyes getting heavy. They don't have anywhere to be tonight. Sure, they've got the intention of going out for dinner and a walk, but Dan thinks that he could convince Phil to stay in bed easily enough. Room service hasn't failed them yet.

With a little yawn, Dan rolls onto Phil's side of the bed and buries his face in Phil's pillow. It smells like the same fruity shampoo he's used for years, and Dan is unbelievably grateful for Phil's habit of bringing it with them. As nice as it is to have a bit of a break from home, a break from the ghosts that wander those familiar halls and London streets, Dan still wants nothing more than to exist in a place where the evidence of Phil's existence is tangible. He wiggles around until he's comfortable, flat on his stomach and breathing in Phil's scent, and he thinks he could definitely give up a nice dinner for twenty more minutes of this.

Dan must doze off. He doesn't go completely under, but he jolts a bit with the sound of the bathroom door closing again. He can hear Phil laugh, quiet and breathy, and his long fingers run through Dan's hair before he presses a kiss to the back of Dan's neck.

"Mm," Dan says sleepily, arching a bit into the feeling. "You smell good."

"Probably 'cause I showered," says Phil. His voice is deep and amused in the way it only gets when they're alone together. His lips find Dan's neck again and a full-body shiver goes through Dan.

This is something they do sometimes, Dan reminds his overactive brain. Phil kisses him anywhere he can reach, that's something that they've gotten comfortable with over the past few months, and sometimes Dan likes it and sometimes it's too much. Phil never pushes, even though Dan is sure that Phil would prefer to marry someone who doesn't cringe away from his touch on bad days.

Phil is patient with this in a way he's rarely ever been with anything else. Dan knows that it's a good thing, knows that he's lucky to have someone who doesn't push or complain or act burdened, but the fact of the matter is that Dan isn't sure how to progress past this without Phil meeting him halfway.

He supposes that it's something he'll have to voice. He doesn't really love the sound of that. As good as it is to talk things through with his partner, especially when it concerns something that they've both been dealing with for half a year, Dan still feels that grip of anxiety whenever he thinks about talking to Phil about _this_. He's not fully convinced that Phil - especially as he is now, mind scrambled with his twenty-year-old self as it is - would be happy without sex forever.

Hell, _Dan_ wouldn't be happy without sex forever. He _likes_ sex, sex with Phil specifically, and he's finding it more and more difficult not to just jump first and explain himself later.

That wouldn't be fair, though. Dan thinks he owes Phil... something. Some kind of reassurance that he's doing this for himself and not for Phil's sake. Some verbal confirmation that he wants this, despite the possibility of it going badly.

Phil's hand is still in Dan's hair, petting idly, and Dan turns his face so that his voice doesn't come out as muffled when he says, "Hey, Phil?"

"Yeah, babe?"

It's tempting to just make fun of him for the pet name and dodge this conversation again, but Dan steels himself. He wants this, for both of them but mostly for himself, and he can't imagine that it's going to seem like a bad thing in Phil's eyes. What he's scared of, what he's been avoiding, is Phil's careful eyes and 'are you sure's and anything else that makes him second-guess himself. He doesn't want to put this off for another six months.

Dan takes a deep breath. All he can smell is Phil's shampoo and his own body wash. He wonders if Phil forgot to unpack his again or if he just wants to smell like Dan the way Dan sometimes wants nothing more than to smell like Phil.

It helps. The scent of them in this unfamiliar bed is grounding.

Dan shifts until he's flat on his back again, blinking sleep out of his eyes. Phil smiles at him, warm and inviting, and that's almost enough to distract Dan from the fact that he's only wrapped in a fluffy bathrobe. Almost.

The words stick in Dan's throat and he makes a noise around them, reaching for Phil.

Phil comes easily enough, settling on the edge of the bed and letting Dan pull him down for a kiss. Dan keeps a hand at the back of Phil's neck and lets the other run over the triangle of skin and soft hair that the robe allows him. There are things he should say, boundaries that need to shift, but Phil's tongue and chest are so distracting that Dan isn't sure he can verbalize anything right now.

He kisses Phil with everything he's got, tries to put what he's feeling into the wet slide of their mouths. Phil matches his energy instead of backing away from it like Dan had expected, and Dan could weep with how grateful he is that he's marrying a man who wouldn't verbalize _any_ emotions if he didn't have to. Therapy is helping, Dan knows, but right now he's happy about the familiar avoidance technique. He lets Phil suck on his tongue as he presses his palm under the soft bathrobe to smooth further down Phil's torso.

They have to part for breath at some point. Dan bites his own lip as he waits for that careful question. His fingertips brush over Phil's nipple, still hidden from view, and Phil's shudder makes Dan feel heady with power.

He'd forgotten, somehow, that he knows Phil in a way that Phil doesn't know him. Maybe that should be a source of panic or discomfort, but instead it just makes Dan feel like he's got more control over the situation than he'd ever expected to have. He knows Phil. He knows Phil's sensitive spots and reactions and everything he likes to hear and do between the sheets.

Dan holds Phil's gaze as he pulls his hands away, settles them at the knot in the robe's belt. Phil just looks back at him with blown pupils and the faintest hint of a smile.

"Aren't you going to ask me if I'm sure?" Dan murmurs. Once the belt is undone, he wastes no time in pushing the robe off of Phil's shoulders. He's seen Phil naked since the incident and he's felt Phil hard against him when they wake up often enough, but it's something else entirely to get to look at him when his breathing is coming a bit ragged and his cock is starting to swell. Dan might get distracted again, because Phil laughs and snaps his fingers in Dan's face.

"My eyes are up here," he teases. Dan laughs too, sitting up a bit so that he can meet Phil's eyes more easily. "And no, I'm not."

"You're not?"

Phil smiles. He leans down and kisses Dan again, soft and wet and not at all long enough. "No. I bet you've been overthinking this enough for the both of us. No need to ask if you're sure about this when I know you wouldn't kiss me like that unless you were. And, I mean, if you change your mind, all you have to do is say so."

A wave of adoration crashes into Dan and almost knocks him off his feet. He swallows hard and runs his fingers through Phil's damp fringe. Phil turns his face and presses another smiling kiss to the inside of Dan's wrist.

"I want," Dan starts, and then can't seem to finish it. 

It's been half a fucking year. Dan has thought about this more than he cares to admit, has pictured every possible outcome, but suddenly his mind is totally blank. All he knows for sure is that he wants Phil.

"Okay," Phil says like Dan had actually said something of substance. He pushes Dan's t-shirt up a bit, fingertips ghosting over Dan's soft stomach. His touch is so light that it's a bit ticklish, but Dan just nods and raises his arms so that Phil can push it all the way off. Phil isn't looking at him with the wariness or impatience that Dan expected. As soon as Dan is shirtless and squirming a bit with anticipation, all Dan can see in his face is awe. It makes him want to squirm even more to get away from it or to make it turn to lust or something, but there's a part of him that likes it.

They've been together for a really, really long time. Dan can't remember the last time that Phil looked at his body like he couldn't believe his luck.

Dan lifts his hips up just enough to push his own joggers down and kick them off. He's got no interest in teasing and drawing this part out, he only wants to match Phil so they can be equally vulnerable right now. He's been naked in front of Phil the same way that he's seen Phil naked during this whole experience, but this is different. This is very different.

He sees Phil's lips start to form a question, but Dan isn't interested in being asked for things right now. He takes Phil's hand and guides it to his ribcage, where his heart is beating wildly.

"Don't ask permission," Dan says quietly. "I'll say something if I need to. Just... kiss me again and do what feels good."

With a low hum of a noise, Phil presses his mouth to Dan's collarbone, working his way up Dan's jaw until he's licking into Dan's mouth once again. It feels good, and it feels even better when Phil swings his leg over both of Dan's and settles on his thighs. Dan gasps into Phil's mouth when their cocks bump against each other. Phil bites down lightly on his lip, tugging at it until Dan fists a hand in Phil's hair and takes over to deepen the kiss again.

Phil's got both his hands on Dan's waist and his thighs bracketing Dan's own, and as he runs the tip of his tongue over the ticklish roof of Dan's mouth, Dan thinks that he doesn't need anything more than this right now.

Making up his mind, Dan lets his free hand settle on Phil's hip and guides him into a slow thrust forwards. One of them shivers, or maybe they both do, and Phil rolls his hips into Dan's without any further encouragement. Dan doesn't move his hand away, though. He holds on like he's just along for the ride and happily swallows all of Phil's little noises.

It's been a really long time for both of them, and Dan's whole body is on fire like it's his first time all over again. He grazes his teeth over Phil's jaw and bites down on the spot that had, once, almost gotten them caught in a cinema. It has just as big of a reaction this time, but Phil's loud groan and stuttering hips are much better suited to the privacy of their hotel room. Dan settles in to suck a mark into Phil's pale skin. That's something he hasn't let himself do for far too long. He knows Phil used to like it a lot before it got too risky, and Dan is all too happy to litter Phil with hickeys like they used to when it was the only physical evidence they had of the other.

"Used to show these off on Skype," Dan murmurs against Phil's skin, rocking his own hips up to meet Phil's rhythm. Their cocks do rub against each other, the slide of it easy with the way Phil is already leaking, but for the most part they're grinding into the dips of each other's hips. Dan is more than fine with that. He loves the way it feels to rut against the hard planes of Phil's body, and in this moment he has no idea how he went so long without something so simple.

Phil laughs, something breathy and pitched low that goes right to Dan's dick. "Yeah," he says. "I remember."

"You," Dan starts, but then Phil's fingers are running down the side of his cock and over his tight balls, and Dan loses his train of thought. Phil is just exploring in a way that he hasn't done in a long time - unless he'd decided to tease Dan by taking his sweet time getting him off, of course - and it makes something warm settle in Dan's stomach.

He doesn't drag it out unbearably, but Dan whines and bucks up when Phil's hand finally wraps around him. His mind is fuzzy with how turned on he is, and when he opens his eyes he gasps out loud.

The way Phil is _looking_ at him. Dan turns his face and squeezes his eyes shut, trying in vain to stave off the tears welling up behind them. Phil's movements slow, but he doesn't stop. Dan appreciates that, because he doesn't want Phil to stop. He just needs a second. This is overwhelming in a good way and the last impression that Dan wants to make is that he's the type of guy to cry during sex.

Phil's thumb circles the head of Dan's dick in a way that he certainly learned from someone who _isn't_ Dan, but that thought doesn't bother Dan as much as he thought it might. He reaches down to fix Phil's grip, and he's so thankful that Phil has always been a quick learner because now he's stroking Dan exactly the way Dan needs.

"Fuck," Phil breathes, and Dan makes a whimpering sort of noise in agreement. "You're - I love you. Dan, I love you so much."

"I love you," Dan echoes. It's useless to try and hold back the tears now, and he hiccups a laugh as he holds tight to Phil's hips. "God, I'm sorry, this is - it's not bad, this is so good, you're so good, I'm just -"

"It's a lot," says Phil. He gives Dan a reassuring little smile and Dan grins back, blinking back fresh wetness.

"It's a lot," Dan agrees. "But a good lot."

Dan is going to come soon. He wants to hold out and he also doesn't, because he never wants this moment to end but he's also craving the intimacy of the afterglow more than he wants the orgasm itself. He doesn't know how to say any of that to Phil, not yet, so he pulls Phil into a messy kiss and does his best to ignore the damp streaks on his own face.

When Dan feels the familiar ebb and flow of his body preparing itself for a good orgasm, he breaks the kiss. He takes Phil in hand and revels in the surprised moan he gets for his trouble. Dan knows what Phil might not - that Phil always prefers to come with all their noises out in the open instead of muffled by each other's mouths and skin. Dan doesn't so much exaggerate his own pleasured sounds as he simply lets himself be loud. Sure, it's for Phil's sake, but it's not exactly difficult.

Phil swears and bites Dan's shoulder, a quick sharpness that makes Dan's cock twitch. He can tell that Phil isn't going to be far behind him, so Dan doesn't bother being selfless. He keeps his fingers in a loose circle around Phil's cock so that Phil can keep fucking into it as he focuses on the build that he feels in his spine. Dan's back arches with the feeling and he says something nonsensical about how good Phil feels right before he comes over Phil's fist and tummy and cock.

At some point while Dan waits for his toes to uncurl and his breath to come back, Phil comes. Dan misses the exact moment, but he's alright with that. Sex with Phil is about more than just the finish line, and when Phil buries his face in Dan's neck and collapses on top of him, Dan is more than content with not seeing his O-face this time.

"Heavy," he complains anyway, rolling them both onto their sides and grinning at Phil's disgruntled expression. "You okay?"

Phil laughs, tangling his fingers with Dan's and holding tight. "Never been better."

\--

"I told you!" Dan calls over to his scampering, flailing fiancé. He keeps filming and grins at how ridiculous Phil looks on the phone screen. "Just fucking - put the snacks down!"

By the time Phil escapes the deer and gets back to Dan, both of them are close to wheezing with laughter.

"One bit my ass," says Phil, taking his phone back from Dan.

Dan grins. "Hey, that's my job."

The way Phil snorts is objectively hilarious, but it's also very cute. Nobody in the park is paying them any mind when there are aggressively snack-oriented deer to look at, so Dan takes a chance in pressing their lips together for a quick, smiling kiss. They get photos of each other with the deer, but Dan's favourite photo of the day doesn't have any animals in it at all. It's just Phil, looking at the place above the camera where Dan's eyes would have been and smiling like there's nothing else in the world.

\--

Dan is still naked. Phil, always craving warmth like a lizard, has wrapped himself in the duvet and stuffed socks back on his feet amidst jeers from Dan. Neither of them have bothered getting properly dressed when they're not tired yet, because they're not too old and boring to nix a round two just yet.

"I need to brush my teeth," Dan says, but he makes no move to get out of the comfortable hotel bed.

"Rude," says Phil. He's holding his phone dangerously close to his nose, apparently too lazy to watch slime videos with his glasses on. Dan regrets ever re-introducing him to that niche.

"I know you're a disgusting monster who doesn't brush his teeth after a midnight snack _or_ a dick in his mouth," says Dan, "but some of us have standards."

Under the duvet, Phil's foot kicks in Dan's direction. It doesn't make contact, but Phil doesn't seem to actually care about that. He's enraptured by whatever muted video he's squinting at. "Whatever, Cum-breath."

Dan bites back a laugh and leaps onto Phil, exhaling purposefully on Phil's face. Phil scrunches up his nose and pushes at Dan, but he's too wrapped in the blanket like a human burrito to do much good. Dan gives up and lets himself laugh at the absolutely appalled look Phil gives him. After a few moments of Dan's cackling filling the room, Phil's lips twitch, too.

"You're so stupid," Dan informs him. Phil shrugs as best as he can with Dan and a duvet on top of him.

"Yeah," he agrees. "Oh, happy Valentine's Day."

The words make Dan's breath catch in his throat, and he checks the time on their bedside clock. Sure enough, it's a couple of minutes past midnight.

Dan hasn't told Phil what this day had started to symbolise for them, because Phil had been so excited about being in Japan with the love of his life for it or whatever, and he realises that he doesn't want to spoil it even now.

"Happy Valentine's," Dan echoes. He kisses Phil slowly, sweetly, and Phil doesn't make any further complaints about his breath. Maybe this innocuous day in February is going to be something they look forward to, now, instead of something they can't acknowledge without buried bitterness rising to the surface. They'd never been angry with each other, of course. But it didn't exactly make for something to celebrate. "I didn't get you anything."

"I didn't get you anything either," says Phil. "That's okay. It doesn't have to be a gift thing. It can just be a kissing thing, I liked that."

There are shadows and ghosts in London that aren't so prominent here. Dan looks at Phil and can't seem to imagine a life without the man he is, now. Phil smiles at him, wide and beautiful, before pulling him down into another kiss. Dan lets himself get carried away.

**Author's Note:**

> another huge thank you to nathalie for sponsoring me on this!!!! also, thank you to chicken, puddle, and jude for always making sure i don't leave any [notes like this] in my final products ♥ i owe all of you my liiiife. also ALSO, thank you to everyone who has been keeping up with amnesia! i hope that you liked this update - if you did, let me know!


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